FOR THE FIRST HALF an hour or so after Gemma arrives at their house, she and Alex don’t make much more conversation than small talk. Alex doesn’t mind. He’s had enough of telling stories. He just wants to enjoy Gemma’s company. She was the first person he ever felt really safe with, and he lets himself soak in that feeling as they make lunch together.
“So, business proposition,” Gemma says, digging in the refrigerator for vegetables.
“Yeah?” Alex asks from the stove where he’s sautéing chicken.
“Come be in Scism.”
Alex starts laughing. The sound is rich but distinctly dark even to his own ears.
“Excuse me,” Gemma says, straightening up from the refrigerator with a bag of broccoli slaw. She looks affronted, but Alex doesn’t have any bandwidth to be kind.
“Seriously?” he retorts. “Vict
